


Don't Say A Word

by sanguisuga



Series: Aberrant Fragments [16]
Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mystrade Prompt Challenge, Not So Drunken Realisations, Staking a Claim, because of course, in the car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 09:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguisuga/pseuds/sanguisuga
Summary: My second entry for the Mystrade Prompt Challenge on tumblr.Dialogue - "Don't say a word."Circumstances - On a summer morningMust mention - A car





	Don't Say A Word

**Author's Note:**

> Another furtive thing typed out on my phone and posted without running it through the wringer. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

Greg stood with his hands on his hips as he surveyed his little fiefdom from the crest of the hill. He watched carefully as his blue paper-suited soldiers sifted through gravel and the odd grassy tussock, searching out evidence. His Sergeant was a few yards away, her notepad at the ready as she questioned the unfortunate couple who had discovered the corpse. In actuality, it had been their dog that had nosed out the intriguing tidbit, but they had thankfully managed to haul the animal off before it got too close and disturbed anything.

Greg raised a hand above his eyes and squinted up into the sky. Although it was still relatively early in the morning, the hazy summer sun was already making its presence felt, and Greg swiped his forearm over his brow to clear away the sweat beading up. The sooner they got the body tucked away somewhere cool, the better. Otherwise this would wind up being a very stinky day.

He turned slightly as he caught motion from the corner of his eye, his heart plummeting as the large black town car slid to a stop. Greg briefly entertained the idea of sliding down the hill and throwing himself into the Thames, but there were too many people about, and he knew each of them too well. They’d just fish him out and hand him over as a sacrifice.

Still he hesitated, even as the car idled there, serene and forbidding in its utter blackness. _Dammit._ It had been a whole fortnight - he had really hoped that his drunken ravings had been overlooked, or simply ignored. Greg bit his lip as his belly rumbled anxiously. Maybe they had been - maybe this was something else. Something about the mutual thorn in their respective sides,  and not about an appalling lack of reason or control.

Greg squared his shoulders and tried to ignore the instant replay of two weeks earlier as he walked towards the car. Slowly.

He’d been feeling even more sorry for himself than usual, and with an entire weekend free ahead of him, he had decided to go on a bit of a bender. Irresponsible, yes, but what did it matter? He only had himself to look after, so why the hell not?

He got himself cosy first, a nice long shower and comfy clothes. Had a modest dinner with a beer or two and then sat down with the bottle of whisky that Mycroft had gifted him for Christmas the prior year.

It was very nice whisky, of course, but the gift had felt somewhat impersonal, something standard that he had probably handed out to all of his minions. Greg had found himself resenting it a little more with each finger he downed, thinking of all the times he had put his arse on the line to help those blasted Holmes boys and you would think that made them friends at the very least. Right?

And then Greg had pulled out his mobile. He started genially enough, he supposed. Asking if they were friends, if maybe they should ‘hang out’. Dear Lord. But there had been no response.

Another glassful, and Greg had suddenly reverted to a bloody teenager. _‘Do you even like me? I like you.’_ Bloody hell. He might as well have asked Mycroft to tick a box labelled yes or no.

Maybe if he had stopped at that point, it could have been salvaged. If he had rolled off the couch, put the cap back on that damn bottle and gone to bed, he may have been able to talk his way out of it.

But no... That was when he had just starting taking swigs straight from the bottle, and that was when the confessions began. _‘I think ur lovely. Gings r th best. Nose is beaky, still wanna kiss it.’_

Not that he actually remembered sending any of that, of course. He discovered this after his second biggest mistake of that weekend, which was finally picking himself off the living room rug sometime in the late afternoon. He should have just laid there until he melted into the floor, but his bladder wouldn’t allow it.

The first mistake had been cracking that bottle open in the first place, of course. Greg cringed as he remembered reading through the messages the day after, especially the parting shot. _‘Wanna bite ur bum.’_

He sighed as he reached the car, leaning into the window as it opened smoothly. Greg’s eyes fluttered against the soft rush of artificially cooled air and he took in a deep breath, relishing it for just a moment.

“Mr. Holmes, I-”

“Please, get in.”

Greg paused at the genteel voice, and Mycroft gestured again, indicating the empty seat next to him. Greg’s heart thumped somewhere in the vicinity of his Adam’s apple as he reached for the door handle, settling against the cool leather with a shiver of pleasure.

“Mr. Holmes, I really-”

Mycroft held up a hand. “Don’t say a word. Not until I say.”

Greg gulped and nodded. _Shit._

He tried not to squirm as Mycroft’s cool grey eyes slid up and down his body and then lingered on his face. Greg knew that he was searching for something beyond his usual deductions, something deeper. He briefly closed his eyes as he took in a fortifying breath, seeking out his own sense of resolve, allowing himself to lower his barriers.

Opening his eyes again, Greg met Mycroft’s crystalline gaze and almost smirked as his head reared back slightly. He watched as Mycroft processed whatever information he had just gleaned from him, as he reached his conclusions and yet tried to reject them. He simply found them too unbelievable.

Greg shook his head. _Silly man._ Cautiously, he slid his hand over the leather seat, reaching out with just his pinky to gently poke Mycroft in the thigh.

This kicked him out of his rapid blinking, and he looked at Greg incredulously. “You meant them.”

Greg nodded. “Every horribly misspelled word, yes.”

Mycroft’s cheeks coloured. “Even the ones involving your teeth and various parts of my anatomy?”

Greg grinned slowly as the colour spread up to the very tips of Mycroft’s ears. “Every. Single. Word.”

Although Mycroft Holmes was generally a very methodical man, each move carefully plotted and planned, Greg suddenly discovered that he could move very quickly when he had a mind to.

Mycroft’s lips were cool, but they warmed very nicely against Greg’s as they kissed, artless and messy. Greg took in a great gasp of air as Mycroft’s fingers plunged into his hair and tugged before moving down, deftly slipping the buttons on his shirt free one by one.

“M-Mycroft...”

Mycroft hissed in delight as he threw Greg’s shirt open, ducking down to tongue at an undefended nipple. Greg squirmed and shouted, immediately biting his lip to try and keep his cries contained. Mycroft was busily exploring the terrain of his torso and didn’t seem to notice. What he _did_ notice was Greg’s increasing tumescence, and he veritably pounced on it.

Greg’s back arched as those nimble fingers wormed their way right into his trousers, and soon enough his cock was basking in the air-conditioned breeze, hard and ready. He whimpered quietly as Mycroft paused, looking down in veneration.

“Oh, Greg.” He wrapped his hand around him, caressing him gently as Greg shuddered. “Oh, but you’re lovely.”

“Mycroft...”

The stroking came to a halt as Mycroft looked up, pressing an almost chaste kiss to his cheek. “Do you object?”

Greg barked out a strangled laugh as he shook his head. “N-not at all - j-just your driver... Gah!” His leg kicked out involuntarily as Mycroft twisted his fingers around the head of his cock, chuckling almost evilly.

“Stepped out when you got in. Don’t worry about it. Sound-proofed.” He increased the speed of his strokes, squeezing and twisting as more pre-come oozed from the head of Greg's cock. “So juicy you are.”

Greg groaned and pushed up with his legs as he gave in to instinct, one arm wrapped around Mycroft’s waist and pulling him in tighter. “F-f-fuck me, you filthy bastard.”

“Later, perhaps. For now, I’m going to bring you off with my hand, and tonight you will come to mine.” Mycroft snuggled closer, his lips and tongue playing along the edge of Greg’s ear. “I need this lovely cock inside me, Greg. I will suck you and then I will sink down on you and ride you and watch your face as you fill me up and then, oh God, and then I will come all over you and it will be _glorious_.”

Greg’s pent-up breath wheezed out of him as his cock jerked hard. Mycroft pulled away to watch as Greg came, his expression avidly fascinated. Greg whimpered and shuddered as he came down, twitching awkwardly as Mycroft ran his fingers lightly through the mess he had helped create.

He groaned loudly as Mycroft lifted his hand to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick up the pearly liquid. Greg quickly shut his eyes, shaking his head blindly to stave off the surprising possibility of his cock rallying for a second go. He blinked blearily as he heard the sharp snap of cloth, his lips quirking up as Mycroft mopped him up with an absurdly expensive hanky.

He simply lolled there heavily, blinking languidly as Mycroft avoided his eyes and started to button him all back together. His fingers were gentle as he tucked Greg back into his trousers, but he apparently couldn’t resist a parting squeeze.

Greg squeaked, Mycroft giggled, and the odd tension that had been building up vanished into the cool air surrounding them. Greg took Mycroft’s hand in his and kissed his fingertips, winking at him as he blushed becomingly.

“I’m going to take such good care of you, Mycroft.”

“Tonight?”

“For as many nights as you can stand me.”

Mycroft’s eyes sparkled, and the shy grin that bloomed on his face absolutely made Greg’s heart trip in his chest. He hesitated only momentarily before darting in to lay what he hoped was a sweet kiss on Mycroft’s lips. Then he braced himself as he opened the door, sighing despondently at the rise in temperature.

“Greg.”

Greg turned in surprise as Mycroft followed him out, shielding his eyes as he looked over the members of his team milling about. “Are - are you out?”

Greg shrugged. “More or less, yeah. I never felt the need to announce it, but the important people know.”

“Good. Then this won’t cause a scandal.”

Greg whooped quietly as Mycroft hauled him in by his shirt, laying a full-blown kiss on him that nearly made his hair crackle with electricity. He reeled as he was released, grinning dopily as Mycroft bodily turned him around and hissed, “Mine,” in his ear.

With a hearty smack on his rear, Mycroft sent Greg back into the fray and vanished back into his car to be whisked away into the early afternoon.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd or brit-picked. Characters not mine, but the situation definitely is!
> 
> If you'd like to get notifications from tumblr, I'm at 'bitemebat.tumblr.com'. Come follow me, and you'll get pretty boys and soft kitties on your dash!
> 
> (I'm also over on Pillowfort.io if anyone out there is giving them a shot - as 'sanguisuga'. Come follow me and join the 'mystrade' community!)


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